


I'm Falling (Never to be finished)

by Panther (PantherTheRogue)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Humanstuck, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships To Be Added, Pain, Swearing, The Accident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantherTheRogue/pseuds/Panther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I wrote this a few years ago and I decided it was beyond saving, so maybe when I have the time I'll try to fix it, but even reading the old summary made me cringe, so don't get your hopes up. But this is definitely never going to be finished. I won't take it down, though. Just because.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death (?)

**Author's Note:**

> This is gunna have multiple chapters, so there.  
> I know this isn't much right now, but you'll s33. You'll ALL S33.
> 
> I'll change the tags at a later date and stuff.
> 
>  
> 
> ~ Panther ;33

“What are you waiting for? Don’t you wanna flyyyyyyyy?” she taunted. You gulped nervously.

“Y.. Yes, but.. uh.. I, uhm, don’t think that this is..”

“Don’t be a wimp! Peter Pan isn’t a wimp! He flew! That’s what’s in your way! Come oooooooon!” she yelled, dragging out the word ‘on’ for eight seconds exactly. You would know. You always count. It’s a thing she does when she gets bored or something; you don’t quite remember her reasoning.

“I.. uh.. don’t think.. Peter Pan, uh.. Learned to, uhm… uh.. fly.. like.. this…” you murmur, unsure of yourself. You stare at the ground under the ledge. It seemed like a good fifty feet. Or something. You’re seven, you’re not a genius.

The wind clawed at your back, as if egging you on. Your cute little hat threatened to fall off your head, so you took it off your head. You loved your hat. Your Grandpa Tinkerbull (that’s not his real name, but he always let you call him that) made it for you. As well as the rest of the plucky little outfit you had on.

It looked exactly like Peter Pans outfit, and you wore it every Halloween, not to mention when you were playing with Vriska and Aradia and that girl Terezi who you’ve never actually seen. You’ve talked to her a little bit on Trollian, as well as your friend arsenicCatnip, who you don’t actually know the name of, and a kid named terminallyCapricious, whose name is also a mystery. He says he lives very close to where you are, but he’s not allowed to go anywhere except for the shore because his grandfather, Goat Dad (also not his actual name, but I guess nicknaming your grandparents was in style or something?), thinks it’s too dangerous for him to actually meet other people, because of his ‘anger issues’ or something. Though, he doesn’t seem like the type to get angry.

A smile you didn’t know you could form under this kind of pressure forms. You always smile when you think of TC, because he’s pretty much your best friend. You both talk about your favorite rappers, even though Tinkerbull thinks it’s the ‘devils music’, and seven year olds shouldn’t be listening to it, but TC told you about it, so of course you like it. He talks about these weird things that his family worships apparently, something about the ‘merciful messiahs’ and how there are ‘miracles’ all around us.     

You could go on forever about TC, but another howl of the wind reminded you where you were. At the edge of a cliff. Dirt crumbling at your feet. A potential psychopath behind you. You gulp and wipe your eyes. When did you start crying..?

“Go, Tavros!!” Vriska yelled behind you. Just as you were about to back away and tell her you couldn’t do it, she came forward and gave you a good shove.

“Fly, Peter, flyyyyyyyy~!” she giggled.

Time seemed to slow down. Everything was a blur, but a blur that wouldn’t end. You couldn’t even scream. Tears streamed down your face and into the air. You knew what came next. Pain. Pain was all too familiar to you, thanks to Vriska. Your short, miserable, meaningless life flashed before your eyes. You close your eyes.

 _Will anybody care that I’m dead? Will AC and TC know? Or will Vriska just tell them a lie, like ‘he doesn’t like you guys anymore’? They probably won’t care anyways._ You can’t stop your pessimistic thoughts from plaguing your last moments. They were moving a mile per second. They should probably get a ticket, but apparently the thought police are dead, just like your hope.

Wow, you sure are depressing sometimes.

You hear a crunch. A very loud crunch. You lie on your back, paralyzed with pain and, more technically, broken bones. You let out a terrifying scream that scared you senseless. You feel blood forcing its way up your throat, and you make a face of disgust at the burn and the taste before throwing your head to the side and throwing up enough blood to feed a tribe of mosquitoes. Your stomach contents mix into the disgusting pile as well. You want to scream for help, but your voice is suddenly far too weak to even attempt.

You try anyways. It comes out as a meek “h..h-helllllll…” and you give up, tears streaming your face. You suddenly realize that you can’t feel your legs. You try to move them, but the overexertion of moving your limbs earns the blood pile another liter of content. You’re exaggerating, of course, but who wouldn’t when they were **dying.**

You could hear yelling from above, and you hope to God that it’s Aradia. You’re pretty sure it’s not, but you can’t bother to open your eyes to check. You don’t want to see anything right now. Especially not yourself. You’re sure you look like a mess. You _feel_ like a mess, anyways.

After many attempts and much more blood, you manage to get your emergency phone out. You don’t look who you pick to call. You don’t actually use this thing for emergencies, anyways. You usually use it to communicate with Aradia, since you don’t see her often anymore now that her mother decided she was old enough to come on expeditions with her. Though, they’re home right now. You have some friends from school that you barely talk to. You hope that you called Grandpa. Well, not hope. Since your hope was brutally murdered minutes ago.

“H.. Hey.. uh… V-Vriska.. Just kinda.. pushed me off.. uh.. a c-cliff.. and.. uh.. my legs.. sort of.. feel.. invisible…?”

There was silence. You definitely know this isn’t Tinkerbull.

Crap.

“Wow.. I’m, uh.. pretty s-sure that, uhm.. uh.. T-there was a, uh.. better way to.. uh.. say that..”

You’re surprised your voice is even working. You’re sure that this was once of TC’s miracles.

You also curse your stutter. It would be so much easier if that was a thing that stopped existing.

“… Hey, asshole, if you’re trying to prank-call me, it’s not gunna work, I’m smarter than I fucking look. Also, quit playing those stupid fucking games about Peter Pan, it’s for girls.”

You cringe at the grumpy voice on the line. Of course it had to be him. The grumpy kid that sat in the back who didn’t talk to anyone. How did a seven year old know all those swear words, anyways..? You decide to ponder that later.

“I.. uh.. uhm… I’m not p-pranking y.. you..” your voice was giving out.

“… Fuck you.” Click. Beeeeeeeep.

 _He hung up. He seriously hung up._ You think, disbelief filling your body. You drop your phone in the blood pile (which was matting your hair now. Gross) and your arm goes limp. You’re suddenly very tired. You want to sleep. You don’t care if that means that you don’t wake up. You don’t care if you never see any of your friends again. You don’t care if Grandpa finds you or not. You just... **_REALLY_ ** don’t care.

You wait to succumb to the darkness, when a voice stirs you; A wavy, mellow, concerned voice, whose owner seemed to be talking to himself than anyone else.

“Woah. What happened to this motherfucker.”

 


	2. Painfull Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavvy wakes up to an unfamiliar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHAHAHAHA! I UPLOADED SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH THIS STORY! TODAY! LIKE I PROMISED THAT ONE PERSON!!! IT'S 11:30, BUT I DID IT! WOOHOO! HA. HA HA. HA.
> 
> *Sobs grossly in the corner.*

You slip back into consciousness slowly, feeling stiff. _How long was I out…?_ Was the first thing on your mind. As soon as a sweet scent filled your nose, the thought was taken out back and shot, replaced by _is that pie…? Tinkerbull doesn’t bake… Tinkerbull shouldn’t even be home… Wait, what time is it?_ You open your eyes, then close them immediately, the sun blinding you. You concentrate on the smell of the place you were in.

Under the strong aroma of apple pie, you managed to sniff out soda and some sort of smell that brought back a few memories. Two years ago, when your brother was only seventeen and was forced to live with you and Tinkerbull, he would hang out with Aradia’s sister, Damara (you had the sneaking suspicion that they were dating, which is creepy, since she was your best friends sister), and she would bring this green stuff in a bag (Tinkerbull was usually away, and they made you swear you wouldn’t tell, then hide in his room). They would smoke it, then... They would make weird noises for about ten minutes. You always thought they wrestled. You didn’t get why they did it so often, since Rufioh always won.

You hear footsteps come towards you, and you stiffen up a bit, suddenly terrified, remembering that **_this was not your house._**

**HOOONK**

“ ** _MOTHERFUCKER!”_**

You tense up more at that, until you hear a loud, whooping, should-be-terrifying-but-it-sounds-really-cute laugh. They were even honking in between breaths. That was kind of adorable.

You suddenly feel a palm smack your forehead.

“Litte guy don't seem like he got a temperature... Guess he's not sick... Hey! You awake yet, motherfucker?”

You cringe in pain.

“Ow…” you mutter, grumbling a little, confused and sort of mad that he did that.

“Ahhah! Good, you’re not dead! Thought this little motherfucker all up and croaked on me, ya dig?”

“uh..” you open your eyes to get a better look at him. He had black, grey, and white face paint on him, and his hair was in a wild tangle. His eyes looked almost purple and were heavily lidded, as if he were sleepy or something. He looked older than you, too. And he was REALLY tall compared to you. Like, you were 4’11 (and still growing, thank you very much. You were actually one of the taller ones in class right now), and he looked like he was 5’5. And also probably still growing. It was terrifying. But his lazy grin soothed you a bit.

You glance around the room. There were pie tins and bicycle horns everywhere, and there were weirdly named 2-liters littered everywhere (really? What kind of name was ‘Faygo’?), all open, soda stains all over the floor. You look back at him again and decide to inspect him more. His shirt had a weird symbol on it in purple, but the rest was black, save for the white and grey polka-dots on his pants. Now that you thought of it, he looked like a silly clown.

Which sucked, because ever since Rufioh made you watch that scary clown movie (IT, you believe it was called), you’ve been terrified of clowns. You swallow your fear.

“Uhm... No… I, uh, d-don’t think I r-really do, uh, ‘dig’…”

He stared at you for a moment, smile dropping, as if processing what you just said. He broke into an even wider smile than before, then laughed-honked loudly.

“Ah! If you ain’t just the cutest motherfucker ever! Well, ‘sept for this one guy I know, but he don’t fuckin’ appreciate it when I all up and point it out. That kid don’t like it when I compliment him. Gets real fuckin’ bashful and shit and all up and fuckin’ changes the conversation.”

You huff a bit. “I’m not cute…” Why does everybody call you cute? Aradia, Tinkerbull, AC, and ESPECIALLY TC call you cute on an almost-daily basis. It’s annoying, and you don’t like it when people compliment you. You’re nothing special at all. You have no redeeming qualities, but people still insist to make up some to make you ‘feel better’. You hate it.

The stranger slaps your knee. “What’s your name, brother?”  
Boy, you wish he hadn’t have done that.

You instantly start screaming, pain jolting through your body like three hundred lightning bolts hitting you one after another after another, each one more painful than the last. You feel the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes, and you release them without thought, your pride stomped into the ground the moment you were pushed off that cliff.

Oh. You forgot about that.

You felt burning, acidic liquid climbing up your throat, and you force yourself to swallow it. You don’t want to empty your stomach contents on this person’s bed. That’d be rude.

You hear him scream for someone that sounded kind of like ‘Carrots’. You could be wrong, though. You can barely hear anything over the ringing in your ears. Besides, why would he say ‘Carrots’? That’s stupid. You hear the door slam open, and the clown kid trying to explain the situation to ‘Carrot’, which started to sound a little more like ‘Kurloz’, but you’re sure that ‘Kurloz’ can’t hear anything over your screaming. You feel a palm run through your hair, then feel something injected into your arm that sends a wave of calmness through you. Your screams die down to heavy breathing, and you hear ‘Kurloz’ and the silly clown kid both sigh in relief. Good for fucking them, but you’re still in pain.

Your stomach churns and you shudder, feeling like you were about to barf any second now.

The ringing died down and you strain your ears to hear their conversation. You could feel yourself slip back into unconsciousness.

“Maybe his leg is broken… Or something… Oh no! What if I broke it more! What if the little motherfucker-“

SMACK

“Ow… Sorry… What if the little guy can never walk again?”

There was frightening silence, then a whooping ‘Honk!’

“Yeah, right! But still… Maybe we should just bring him to the hospital… It’s scary to think about… And what if his parents are worried about him! They probably don’t know where he is!”

“I… Uh.. Don’t have… Um.. P-Parents…” You mindlessly correct, surprised you can even talk.

“Holy shi- I mean, crap, you’re still awake…? You’re a stubborn little motherFRICKER…” He seemed to direct the last word at someone other than you. Probably that one Kurloz guy from before. You just groan and move your head away. You felt nauseous. You wanted to go home, hug Tinkerbull, tell Aradia you were alright, and avoid Vriska for the rest of your life. And you wanted a bath.

It occurs to you just how dirty and gross you feel. You could feel vomit clinging to your clothing and matted into your hair. You’re sure 90% of it was blood. You REALLY want a bath.

“Woah, little bro, I’ll all up and make sure you get to your tinker-whatever, you can do all that, just wait a bit while we figure this shi-err, crap, out…”

Oh. You said that out loud.

“Yeah, you did. Now shoosh.”

You decide it’s time to stop thinking now. You slowly start to fall to sleep. Aside from a bath, sleep sounded like the most important thing. You start to grow limp and your breathing slows.

“Woah, woah, woah! Don’t go out on me, bro! You might have a concussion or some crap! If you fall asleep, you could go into a coma, right, Kurloz? ... Right. Just hold up a little longer! Hey, are you even listening?!”

You slip into darkness, ignoring the silly clown kid’s protests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got so much shit planned out for this story. You don't even know. Bad things. <33 I love you all, but, come on, I'm fucking weird and twisted. Don't even act surprised. I'm in the process of making a GamTav oneshot. I hope you people get all the f33ls. All of them.
> 
> Sorry that these things come out so late. I get really distracted, then don't f33l like writing, then I f33l like writing, but I'm half asl33p and I'm like "I'll wait 'till morning" and then do it thr33 days later.
> 
> I'm busy all w33k, too. Sorry. I love you all :33 Forgive me <33
> 
> ~Panther ;33

**Author's Note:**

> I found this really cool headcannon where Tavros and Gamz33 live close to eachother, and that, since Tinkerbull wouldn't be able to pick Tavros up, Gamz33 was the one who found him on the shore and helped him. I really like that headcannon :33
> 
> ~ Panther ;33


End file.
